Thursday, June 1, 2006

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, March 9, 1919.

Through the bare boughs of the trees the bright plumage of the cardinal
stood out with startling brilliancy. He skipped about from tree to tree
seeking the best place for the nest. He and Mrs. Cardinal were going to
set up housekeeping shortly, before all the multitude of songsters
arrived. The robin, the catbird, the thrush, would all be here shortly,
but he should find the best residence of all before they came. He
flitted from branch to branch, so beautiful, so delighted at the
approach of spring, his throat ever voicing his delight in a glad song.

The old house cat, Billy, lay drowsily enjoying the bright spring
sunshine; he opened one eye and meditated on how long it would be before
summer would make outdoor life agreeable, sleepily watched the cardinal
and Mrs. Cardinal, who had started a conversation with two sparrows,
chattering and quarreling as ever on the exact locality of their next
home. It was advisable to move. The drain pipe under which they lived
had started to leak and dripped down cold showers upon them whenever it
started to rain. A squirrel came leaping across the grass and up the big
cherry tree. Billy often tried to catch them, but now he was older he
saw the foolishness and uselessness of chasing them as they passed so
swiftly before his sight that sometimes he rubbed his eye with his paw
and wondered whether he had really seen them at all. Jerry, the dog,
also enjoyed the warm spring breeze and stalked across the lawn, taking a
sniff in Billy's direction, but keeping his distance. Billy's claws
were sharp and he resented any familiarity. Finally the cheerful song of
the cardinal called to Mrs. Cardinal that he had found the place. He
stopped to talk to Mr. Sparrow: "Why do you always quarrel? Is there not
room enough for us all in these beautiful trees?" Mr. Sparrow looked at
him thoughtfully. He commenced smoothing his feathers, as he felt
positively ill-dressed and insignificant near this resplendent songster.

"'Tis better to find all the fault before you build!" he finally said.
"Besides, you know, my throat seems only suited to chirping and
fault-finding, but I mean well. Perhaps, Master Cardinal, what you say
may be dismal, too, if we could understand it, but you have a presence
and a voice and it sounds well!" The cardinal sighed and flew off to
find more congenial company.

The site he had selected in the old oak tree was approved by Mrs.
Cardinal, and they started after building material. Such funny material,
too! Little thought the old pony that many of his long hairs would
grace a cardinal's nest. Jerry contributed also and a nice piece of
pussy's fur make the loveliest lining, all of these strange materials
being woven together upon tiny twigs.

Old Mr. Sun, looking down through the branches of the tree at the cozy
little home, called good-night. "You have made good use of this fine
spring day!" said he, and so they had, my loves--so they had.

THE FORGETFUL POET

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, February 24, 1918.

Reasonable Riddles

I told the Forgetful Poet that I never heard of a reasonable riddle, but
he says that they are the most reasonable things in the world, because
they can always be answered.

"Then just kindly answer the ones you gave us last week!" I suggested,
for to tell the truth more than one of his verses had puzzled me.
"Certainly, certainly," said this singular gentleman, and rattled off
the following: "Date, loaf, meat, bran, pear, jam, rye, preserves and
bread."

"Do you know any more like that?" I asked, gloomily, "because - "

"There once was a man
Who felt aw'fly bad--
Such a terrible deep chested
-------? had er--"

Before he could start another one, I hastened to finish my sentence
which had been cut short by his verse. "Because, if yo do, I hope you
forget them!"

Without paying the slightest attention he rattled off another--

"Who'll -------- the depths of knowledge must
Go through a lot that's dry as dust!"

"Just fill in the places where I said blank with something to drink and
something to eat!" he chuckled. "And now if you'll just excuse me, I'll
be getting hence!" Which he proceeded to do. Can you tell me now what
the the three finest letters in the alphabet? And can you tell me the
sentence written here?

C U R 1 2 X L.

And the following words: y10--oacccc--z 10 u 8? R K D A.

For the neatest and most correctly spelled answer there will be a
surprise. Send your letters to the Forgetful Poet, care of the Ledger.

[Answers next time. This is a historical presentation of Ruth Plumly
Thompson's writing. Please don't send in any answers--no surprise will
be awarded.]